Red Eyes
by Chuui
Summary: Riza Hawkeye hates her red eyes, they only seem to bring her more trouble. Berthold Hawkeye has a solution. Oneshot.


**A/N: Ah yes, I'm no alchemy master here so I'm not even sure if everything in this fic is entirely possible, but for the sake of the fic let's just pretend this is all possible, as it has been somewhat of a sad headcanon of mine for a while. Also this is my first author's note, hullo! Thanks for reading.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**

* * *

"Ishvalan mutt!"

"Get away from us!"

"Don't touch her; you'll catch what she has!"

"Hey look it's that freak girl again!"

A freak.

That's what she was, _a freak_. It was the same every day, whether they teased her about the circumstances of her father, the "witchcraft" he supposedly researched, or more recently, the colour of her eyes.

Riza Hawkeye used to love her beautiful red eyes, one of the only physical traits she inherited from her mother's side of the family. She always thought she was special, her lovely short blonde locks, her pale Amestrian skin tone, and of course those huge eyes. As a much smaller child, she was considered exotic when she first entered public school. The other students were not as much disgusted as simply intrigued by her eye colour. A lot of the town knew her mother and her roots, so it was not a mystery where she inherited her eye colour from.

In the years after her mother's passing everyone in town slowly grew apart from the Hawkeye's. Her father became shut off from the world, which made her feel like she was all alone. The kids at school pitied her and feared her at the same time, she's not sure when the children starting believing that her father studied "witchcraft" and they should stay away from her, but that was around the time she started to dread every school day more and more.

Recently, there had been some unrest in the Ishval and word had come around to her small town. All the children immediately categorized her red eyes with the riots happening and silently decided she was no longer welcome in their society. That's when most of the bullying began. She couldn't go a day without hearing some sort of slur directed at her background.

Today she was really at her wit's end. She leaned against the door of her house as tears were threatening to fall from her eyes. Her mom always told her to be a strong girl, no matter what, but today she felt like her whole world was just coming crashing down. A single tear rolled down her face before she heard the familiar creak of the study door opening.

"What's wrong Riza?"

Her father loved her, she was sure of this, but recently he has been a bit inattentive. Sometimes she went days without even seeing him except when she brought his meals into the study. The look of concern that was on his face made her feel at ease. It was good to know he still cared, even though it seemed like his mind was almost always on alchemy and alchemy alone.

"I-I hate my eyes, father."

Berthold Hawkeye was starting to look a bit uncomfortable. Her mother had always been the one to comfort her at time like these, he was mainly there to give his honest opinion whether it catered to her feelings or not. He always thought it was good for his daughter to not grow up thinking the world was a great place because it wasn't and he didn't want her to find that out the hard way. Today however, he was willing to do anything to help.

"Why don't you like your eyes Riza? They're beautiful, just like your mother's."

"The k-kids at school, they call me and Ishvalan mutt and r-refuse to talk to me."

He pondered this for a while. His little Riza was getting bullied just because of her eye colour? That was absolutely preposterous, but he had an idea.

"Okay Riza, stay there for a second I'll be right back."

Riza was slightly confused but she nodded her head and stood there while her father stepped back into the study for a moment and came out with a piece of chalk.

"Hold still Riza, this won't take long."

What was he doing? Riza unconsciously fidgeted as the chalk hit her face. Her nose scrunched as the dust flew into her nostrils; he had to hold her body so she didn't twitch as he drew. She knew he was drawing the alchemy circles he always drew, but why on her face?

He slowly put the chalk down and examined his work, before giving a little nod of approval. She eyed him warily as he placed his hand on her face.

"Okay whatever you do Riza, don't close your eyes."

She slowly nodded but inside she was frightened. Was he trying to do alchemy on her face? Before she could voice any of her opinions the blue light started cackling against her skin. It felt warm and it tickled but she made sure to stand still and keep her eyes wide open. That when she felt her eyes rapidly heating up, it almost felt like they were burning. She was about to squeal but her father had her hand against her mouth, making sure it stay shut. The temperature kept rising and it was only her iron will that allowed her to keep her eyes open the entire time. She felt like all the liquids inside her eyes were dissolving under the intense heat. Her father seemed to show no emotion on his face as the light finally started to dissolve and his hand lowered from her face.

She immediately fell to the ground, finally closing her eyes blinking rapidly and liquid kept falling from her eyes. The stinging pain was still there she felt absolutely horrible. She sobbed helplessly into her palms. Her father chose then to interject.

"Riza, open your eyes, let me see."

She wasn't sure if he couldn't tell that she was in pain right now and she really didn't want to open her eyes, but she decided to obey and looked up at him, the water rapidly falling now. Much to her surprise he smiled and patted her head before turning and walking back to the study.

"You need not worry now my child; nobody will make fun of your eyes now."

She felt confused, just what exactly had he done to her? The study once again closed and she felt a bit betrayed. Didn't he see that he was hurting her, or was he too much into his alchemy to notice? He didn't even ask her permission to do any of this, was her using her as an alchemy experiment? No, she thought. Papa would never harm her for the sake of his alchemy.

What exactly did he do to her?

After spending about 15 minutes curled up in a ball waiting for the pain to subside she decided to trek over to the bathroom mirror. The sight she saw left her in shock. Her eyes were no longer the bright bold red she had become accustomed to, in place of them were darker hazel irises staring back at her. She put her hand against the mirror, and then touched her face again, yes they were definitely real. She wasn't dreaming and her father had somehow alchemically changed the colour of her eyes.

She wasn't sure what to feel at that moment. In a way, her problem was solved. Now she looked like a simple Amestrian and there was no reason to doubt that fact, the kids could no longer tease her because of her eyes. At the same time, she felt like she had lost the final piece of her mother that she had left. How would her mom feel, knowing that her beautiful natural eyes were now gone forever, subdued into this quiet brown. She also realized why her father seemed to be smiling amidst her pain; it was a successful transmutation, something he thrived on. Perhaps he was too blinded by that euphoric feeling to even realize what she was going through. She didn't even want to think about what would have happened if something went wrong.

If the kids at school were surprised by her suddenly changing eye colour, they didn't say anything. Now it seemed almost as if they tried to avoid her altogether, as if they were afraid. She thought at least this was better than the teasing.

In the coming years though she was still continually pestered by the children about her crazy alchemist father, there was nothing that could be done about that. Part of her regretted giving up her eyes, not that she had much of a choice, nothing stood out about her now. Her father never again spoke to her about that incident, he had long moved on to bigger and better things.

Even with the brown eyes she now adorned, she will never forget her roots in red.


End file.
